


le coup de foudre

by kami (slowburnsunsets)



Series: oumasai AUs [2]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But not today, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Next Door Neighbors, Power Outage, Rainy Days, bc im lazy orz, communication via writing, honestly rantarou is just a mom at this point, i promise i will eventually write the sequel to this, kokichi is the worst roommate, kokichis unconventional ways of flirting, shuichis hat is the ultimate plot device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23525518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowburnsunsets/pseuds/kami
Summary: Ouma hates rainy days.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Series: oumasai AUs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671091
Comments: 4
Kudos: 81





	le coup de foudre

**Author's Note:**

> aaa thank you all for the kind comments on my first work <3 i'll probably get around to writing the sequel to this work soon so yeah haha. anyway, hope you all enjoy this one !

Ouma has decided that rain is his all-time enemy — seriously, just the worst. Sure, it's all fun and games to run around and jump in puddles, and trust him, Ouma would _gladly_ be doing all of those things right now if he could, except he can't, which is totally unfair because this is supposed to be the beginning of their school break. 

Ugh, he's going to die of boredom at this rate. Okay, fine, he won't actually. But damn it, it's so freaking boring being stuck in here all the time. He might as well admit defeat and start talking to bugs like Gonta. Ew, okay, never mind. That's a bit too far of an exaggeration, even for a dramatic-ass liar like him.

If it were up to Ouma, he'd be sprinting down the neighborhood sidewalks and hunting for the biggest puddles he could find. But alas, his roommates would never let him step foot outside and risk him tracking both mud and rainwater around their house. Which? When you have five boys all living under the same roof and occasional game nights, is impossible to clean up once someone has lost a game of Jenga (seriously, who rages over that?). Truly a tragedy if you ask him. An increasingly boring tragedy. That's how he finds himself dangling off his bed, his head barely dragging along the wooden floor and his legs leaning up the wall that his bed resides against. He considers hanging out with one of his other roommates to pass the time by, but figures it's a no-go because: 

  * Amami is busy on a phone call with his family (super boring).
  * Gonta is doing his weekly sorting of his "friends" A.K.A his bug terrariums (super _gross_ ).
  * Ouma is currently banned —Amami's orders— from messing with Momota and Kiibo for the next two weeks after the Spaghetti Incident (super lame).



Just as Ouma's thinking of one-hundred-and-two different ways to tape the living room couch to the ceiling, he hears a _thud_ at his window. He rolls to his feet and opens it, spotting whatever hit it rolling down the shingles of the roofing below his windowsill, being pushed by the rain and wind. He scrambles to grab it because really, he's _that_ desperate for some form of entertainment. When he returns to his room, he's a slightly soaking mess.

He recognizes the object as a hat that some guy he saw in the neighborhood a few days ago was wearing. Who the guy himself was, Ouma didn't know nor recognize him from before the first semester of school ended. Brushed him off as just another boring stranger.

The hat is all drenched (obviously) and when he looks back out, he figures it must have flown out the open window in the room across from him — from the house next door. 

It's just a hat, he thinks, it's nothing super exciting like a laser gun or magic wand that he can use to keep himself entertained. But ah, whatever. When life gives you lemons, well, at least it gave you something (or something like that, but who's paying attention to his internal monologues and sayings anyway).

In an attempt to do something to busy himself, he decides to try to clean the hat even though that too is extremely, positively, seriously, totally, incredibly boring as well.

# —

Well, that plan lasts for about twenty minutes before Ouma is reminded of why his chores around the house don't involve laundry — he has no idea how any of the machines work (that, and the last time it was his turn to do the household laundry, half of the clothes were accidentally turned pink and he smelled like fresh ocean breeze for an entire month but that's not the point). And look, he's _smart_. Really, he is. It takes a special someone to rig a gaming console with a paper clip (which is the other thing he's banned from —Amami _and_ Momota's orders this time— for a while), but laundry is like an entirely different world to him.

It's time for Plan B — Amami-chan.

Which? Goes smoothly.

Well, not really, but Ouma will lie to his grave and back about having to throw two mini tantrums just to convince Amami to take a short break from his call and wash the hat for him ("But Amami-nii-chaaaaaaan, that's not faaaaaiiiir! Are you playing favorites?" "Ouma-kun, this is the seventh 'mysterious object' you've had me wash this week.").

Regardless, Ouma returns to his room another half hour later with a clean and dry hat.

# —

The sky, at this point, looms with heavy clouds, rolling and foaming like a monochrome poison as the night hours approach. It can't be long, Ouma thinks, before it'll start to rain again. 

Just as he's considering forfeiting his plan, he sees the lights in the house next door flicker on, blinking like they struggle to light up, before remaining on. He scrambles to his feet and grabs an eraser from his desk, one that does more damage as it smudges pencil markings rather than erases them.

With a hefty toss, Ouma launches the eraser through his opened window and watches as it slams into the window across from his own before tumbling down to the wet lawn below. The noise seems to catch the attention of whoever's in the room, because within moments, a figure is approaching the window. It takes a few seconds, but eventually they open the window, revealing a boy who can't be any older than Ouma. "Um, was that you?"

"Yuppers, it was me; the one, the only, Ouma Kokichi!" Ouma introduces with a nod.

"Ah, so that's your name," the boy concludes.

"Mhmm. I saw the lights flickering on in your house and figured something was going on. I got curious." Ouma leans against his windowsill. "Sooooo? What is it? Playing a game? Conserving energy? Summoning demons?"

"No—? I mean, no, that's not—" the boy sighs and shakes his head. "The power went out earlier. Since we just moved in, we've already been having problems with the electricity, and the recent storms haven't made it any easier."

Ouma pouts. "Aww, I was really hoping for the demons! Wouldn't that be super cool? Well, cool until they, like, rip your heart out, possess you, or whatever demons do nowadays."

The boy looks like he hinges on questioning Ouma's use of "nowadays" before deciding against it, instead opting for silence as he stares across at him.

"Hey, are you gonna tell me your name or just stand there and stare at me?" Ouma asks.

"Ah—!" the boy realizes he hasn't even introduced himself, blinking in surprise and slight embarrassment, "sorry, I'm Saihara Shuichi."

"Well then, Saihara-chan, have I got news for you!" Ouma announces, fetching the hat (which he wrapped in a plastic bag because he was _not_ about to risk getting it dirty again) from his desk and tossing it back over to Saihara.

"What is this?" he inquires.

"The reason I knocked on your window, duh," Ouma answers with a shrug.

"Didn't you knock on my windows because you were curious about the lights . . . ?" Saihara inspects it closely, because like an actual normal kid, he was taught to _not take things from strangers_.

"Non non! That was a lie," Ouma explains, "now open your gift! I spent many hours handpicking it just for you, y'know."

"That's a lie too, isn't it?" 

"Wow, you already know me soooo well! See? We get along great. Maybe we were best friends in another life, or even lovers!" Ouma flirts with the possibility of falling out of his window as he speaks, because he leans back and forth against the windowsill.

Saihara pauses for a moment at his words, avoiding eye contact, but Ouma swears he sees a slight blush creep up on his face. The fluster is short-lived, however, as Saihara's eyes widen upon unveiling the hat from the bag. "Is this my hat?"

"Ohhh, so it _is_ your hat!" Ouma beams with excitement similar to a child's.

Saihara glances around the area, then to the hat, and then towards Ouma. "How did—did you break into my room?"

Ouma feigns a gasp and with dramatic motions, places a hand on his heart. "Me? Break into your room? I would never! How could you accuse me of such a heinous crime? That's so meaaaaan! I trusted you, Saihara-chan. How could my lifelong friend betray me like this?"

Saihara, aside from his deadpanning expression, raises an eyebrow. "Ouma-kun, we've known each other for five minutes."

"Damn, you are good," Ouma says jokingly, to which earns a small smile from Saihara.

"But tell me how you got this," Saihara commands, before realizing how authoritative he sounded and adjusts his voice, "um, please."

"Nuh-uh, you hurt my feelings, so I'm not telling you anything!" Ouma pouts.

It's in this moment that Saihara realizes he's dealing with a brat —and the worst part of it all is that he's actually fun _and_ interesting (albeit, comically childish too), so he's still going to talk to him, damn it. He sighs. "Sorry for accusing you, but—"

"Nishishi, I'm just messing with Saihara-chan." Ouma rests his chin on his crossed arms. "I know you weren't being mean. I'll bet my life that you're actually a soft-hearted guy, right? What was it, band? Chess club? Theater? Actually, I take back that last one. Theater kids are the scariest of them all."

Saihara did indeed join the chess club when he was in his junior years, but that's not the point. "Ouma-kun, how did you get my hat?"

"You didn't hear it from me, but I totally found it at my window," Ouma admits.

"It was at your window?" Saihara asks.

"Well, not exactly. But I'm not gonna say," he denies yet again.

Saihara thinks for a moment, considering all his options. "Then what do you want me to do in order for you to tell me?" he inquires genuinely, "you didn't want an apology, so you clearly want something else from me."

"Oh? What makes you say that?" Ouma tilts his head.

"Something tells me you wouldn't still be talking to me if that weren't the case," Saihara admits lightly.

Ouma grins, pleased with how not boring this boy is proving himself to be. "Aww, someone's certainly been paying attention to me! I'm flattered."

Saihara glances away, his face burning ever so slightly. "You just—you just seem like the type of person who—"

"—Your number."

"What?"

"That's what I want from you; your number."

"My number . . . ?" Saihara repeats slowly. He seems surprised by such a mundane want from someone who is absolutely so far from being anything near mundane (because really, he was more so expecting something closer to "help me hide a dead body!" or "I need a getaway driver" or even "give me your credit card information!" but this is fine; this works too).

Ouma, because he's a certified clown, cups his hands around his mouth and hollers, "YOUR NUUUUMMMMMBBBBBEEEERRR! N-U-M-B-E-R!" Saihara's hands fly up, motioning for Ouma to be quiet before the whole neighborhood hears them. Saihara only gets one chance to make an impression, damn it! He's a bit more than just a little red by the time Ouma settles down. "Hmm? What, did Saihara-chan actually think I was going to have him stash a body or something?"

"What—how did you even know that?" Saihara gasps.

Ouma laughs. "So I was right! Man, I was just guessing too. See, I'm not soooo bad."

Unbelievable, Saihara thinks, this guy is absolutely unbelievable. And yet, it's entertaining. Confusing definitely, but mostly entertaining. Saihara lets out a small huff of air to serve as a chuckle. "So you're not some sort of 'heinous committer of crimes'?"

"Nope! Pure as an angel!"

"But you're also a liar."

"Hey. that's meaaaaaan!"

Ouma's pout indicts a laugh from Saihara, but only briefly, because before either of them can continue on with their conversation, a sudden flash of lightning crashes in the distance. It's followed up with a loud rumble of thunder and a surge of rainfall plummeting down from the clouds. The two of them jump back in surprise, each of them tumbling backwards into their rooms before scrambling back to their windows to close them.

Now safe in the closed and dry confinements of their rooms, the two boys laugh at their frantic reactions. Though neither of them can hear the other through the glass, they can still see each other's grins.

Ouma's laughing fit is cut short when another lightning bolt strikes the area and the lights in his house flicker out. He glances at Saihara, who seems to find it amusing that _he's_ the one with the power outage and not him. The power outage is tailed by a synchronized choir of groans and complaints from his roommates before they summon him downstairs. He whines in defeat but still gets up anyway. He shoots a wave towards Saihara before disappearing out of the boy's sight, presumably having gone downstairs to help them try and fix the lights.

Saihara chuckles a bit, before coming up with an idea. He quickly starts to search the boxes in his room for what he needs, waiting for Ouma to return.

# —

An hour or so later, Ouma returns to his room after a lot of bickering and restoring of the electricity. Upon checking, he sees the lights in Saihara's room are off. The thing that really catches his eye, however, is the singular piece of notebook paper with something written on it taped to Saihara's window — a phone number.

Ouma grins as he grabs his own piece of paper and marker, quickly scribbling something down before flicking the lights on and off to grab Saihara's attention. When the taller boy does notice, he watches as Ouma holds up his paper. The two of them engage in an exchange of communication via writing.

_**OUMA :: sooo can i call you tonight??** _

_**SAIHARA :: power's out again and my phone's dying.** _

_**OUMA :: then i have a solution!!** _

_**SAIHARA :: oh god** _

# —

"But if he thought he was real, then why does he still act like a toy when humans enter the room? Huuuuuh? Answer that!"

"Ouma-kun, don't be ridiculous; it's a kid's movie."

"Sooo? I have a point!"

"Ouma-kun, it's three in the morning. Go to sleep."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Stop—! T-that ti—tickles, haha! Ouma-kun—!"

"You know I'm right! Admit defeat, Saihara-chan!"

"A-alright, alright, haha! You — you have a p-point! Now cut — cut it out!"

"But Saihara-chan's laugh is cute! Hey! Oww! See? You're blushing! Heeeey! A pillow can't silence me—!"

Ouma has decided that rain is his all-time best friend — seriously, just the best. Sure, rainy days mean his roommates won't let him leave when it storms (and trust him, he'd _gladly_ be outside if he could), and getting stuck inside for days when they should be celebrating the beginning of their school break is still definitely boring. But rainy days also mean hours upon hours of Saihara and Ouma climbing from one room of theirs to the other, just laughing and talking even as the power goes out on occasion and they lay on the floor all drenched from moving in between houses.

Call him a _pluviophile_ if you want, because for all he cares, it can rain harder if every rainy day will be just like this.

**Author's Note:**

> \+ a pluviophile — a person who finds comfort and/or reassurance in the rain.
> 
> \+ "le coup de foudre" — english translation: a bolt or flash of lightning ;; in french, its figurative meaning is "love at first sight" because the feeling is usually described as a sudden strike ("a sudden flash of lightning flashes in the distance").
> 
> +"maybe we were best friends in a past life, or even lovers!" — quoting oumasai's dangan salmon mode: "maybe you and i were lovers in a past life."
> 
> +"amami-nii-chan" — in the v3 comic anthology, kokichi refers to rantarou by this honorific to soften him and convince him to let kokichi go after being caught in a trap by the others (aka kokichi's way of getting rantarou to do favors for him LMAO)


End file.
